


Adventures in Airvents

by mariadperiad20



Series: Foray into B99 [19]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Asthma, F/M, Hurt Jake Peralta, Hurt/Comfort, Jake Peralta Loves Amy Santiago, curse of the ceiling tiles, difficulty breathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23126677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariadperiad20/pseuds/mariadperiad20
Summary: Jake groaned in pain, shifting to get up, taking in a steadying breath.No breath came.Instead, he coughed.Request fic!
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: Foray into B99 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1320137
Comments: 25
Kudos: 361





	Adventures in Airvents

Jake was doing completely normal police work.

If by police work he meant snooping on Amy’s desk to see what to get her for their anniversary. And if normal meant crawling in the ceiling.

Actually, that was pretty normal, for him.

Or… at least not _unusual_ , he supposed.

Amy had been adamant that they didn’t have the budget for gifts this year, especially considering the $3700 he’d had to pay Captain Kim in damages. Jake didn’t think it was fair to Amy, though. His first option was to get her a gift card to the folder supply store - he had once tried to buy her tabs himself, with little success - but he wanted to get her something actually thoughtful, personal.

Which was why he was doing recon on her desk. Maybe she would have a secret list or something. After all, that would be a totally normal thing for an adult woman to have. Or, at least, for one Amy Santiago.

Jake crawled another few feet, grimacing as some of the internal wiring of the ceiling poked his back as he went. It was a good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic - one thing Amy would never do in a Halloween Heist is crawl through the vents, he knew - as the enclosed spacing and limited lighting made it a struggle to keep himself oriented.

Jake took pains not to stay up in the ceiling for too long, mainly because if he got stuck the precinct would never let him hear the end of it.

As he shifted over to get a closer look on Amy’s desk, he felt the ceiling tiles beneath him shift.

Oh. That was bad.

Jake tried to ease off of the weak point, but the additional pressure in the other spot was too much for it.

He hit the ground before he realized he was falling.

The chunks of ceiling drywall fell down on and around him, sending up a cloud of dirty, dusty specks into the air.

Jake groaned in pain, shifting to get up, taking in a steadying breath.

No breath came.

Instead, he coughed.

Jake felt his pulse jump, heart beginning to beat faster.

_Shit._

He covered one hand with his mouth, still hacking coughs that couldn’t seem to go away. Every time he tried to breathe in to get air into his lungs and get his bearings back together, it prompted yet another bout of coughing. He heard the sound of the precinct around him, but he couldn’t seem to speak.

His chest ached from how hard he was coughing, and he felt a growing sense of pressure, bearing down on his ribcage. It seemed to increase with each passing moment, and Jake brought up one hand to rub at his chest, as if to relieve the pressure there.

Of course, he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Jake knew what this was.

Jake also knew that there was a grand total of zero inhalers in his desk. He’d carried them for fucking years before eventually saying screw it - his old precinct hadn’t been happy with an asthmatic officer, and it was heavily implied he wouldn’t be put into the field if he kept it - and he’d been fine.

But now, of course, it was all going to hell.

Jake knew it was important to stay calm, but he couldn’t fight the feeling of anxiety rising within him as his lungs screamed for oxygen.

He felt a hand at his shoulder.

That’s right. This was all going down in the middle of his precinct’s bullpen.

Wonderful.

“Jake? Jake, breathe.” Came Amy’s voice.

“Why didn’t-” Jake rasped, “Think… that” The pressure on his chest was unrelenting, and he was getting dizzy. Whether that was from the difficulty breathing, or the anxiety, he wasn’t sure.

Jake shifted so he was sitting up straight, as opposed to awkwardly sprawled on the floor.

In an instant, his breathing eased. It was only slight, but it was enough, and Jake was able to wheeze some shred of air into his lungs.

It was nowhere near enough, but it was enough for Jake to regain some semblance of control.

Amy was still crouching next to him, obvious concern spread across her face. She looked panicked, even more so than he felt, her grip on his shoulder painfully tight.

“Jake? What’s wrong?” She turned, voice raising to a shout. “Someone get a medic!” Then turning back to him, voice lowering back down to a gentle tone. “You’re going to be okay, Jake. I promise. Just focus on me, okay?” She said firmly, even as her voice pitched up.

Jake realized… she thought he was dying.

He shook his head, hand grabbing hers. Her wide eyes met his, visceral fear evident on her face.

Jake sucked in another wheezing breath, before he choked out, “...Sthma.”

“What?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing, “I don’t- What are you saying?”

Speaking was a challenge, his throat not properly responding to form the words he was trying to say. He formed the word carefully, enunciating it as best he could.

“As...thma.” He repeated.

Amy’s eyes widened with understanding, before her face set. The concern and obvious fear were still present, but he could practically see her formulating the plan in her head, gathering mental data on the topic.

Figuring out how to help _him_.

Jake felt a smile crack over his face as she went from a panicking Ames to a controlled Lieutenant Santiago in a heartbeat. He immediately regretted the action as it made his breath hitch, and the brief interlude of wheezing breaths were replaced by a renewed fit of coughing.

He heard Amy shout something again, heard footsteps hurrying around, but his vision was beginning to spot with how viciously his body was spasming from the force of the coughs being ripped out of his throat.

He kept himself sitting upright, but even when the coughing fit passed, it was still far too difficult to breathe. Every single wheezing breath was harder than the last, and the tension wrapped around his chest was so much that he felt like it was going to snap his ribs into pieces.

Jake felt Amy’s hand move down to his back, rubbing small circles there, in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

It did nothing, but Jake appreciated the gesture.

Then, someone was standing beside them - Rosa - and she was shoving an inhaler into Amy’s free hand.

She said something to Amy, then fixed Jake with a glare, saying something. He couldn’t hear what she was saying - the blood was pounding in his ears, and he couldn’t seem to focus in on anything, but he could practically see the snarl in her voice.

Rosa was mad.

Well, if he didn’t die from this, he was sure she would kill him.

He didn’t have time to think too much about it, though, because then Amy was pushing the inhaler into his hand.

Her hand was shaking.

Or was that his?

Jake felt the weight of it in his hand as he brought it up. He hadn’t used one of these in decades - not since he was, what, 16? He didn’t remember when he stopped, just that, at one point, he had. Still, the action was engrained in muscle memory, and he shook it, and lifted it up to a couple inches from his mouth, without even seeming to be aware of taking the actions. He released a breath, then pressed down while inhaling slowly, wheezingly.

He held his breath - didn’t make it to ten seconds, not even close - before he choked on air. It didn’t particularly feel better, and he still felt like someone was stepping on his sternum - best not to think about how he knew how that felt, one problem is enough for right now.

Jake could practically feel the tension coming off of Amy as his breathing didn’t improve. He grabbed her hand, and she stared at him, reaching out as if to comfort him. Jake turned her wrist, so that he could look at her watch, counting down the seconds until it hit the 40 second mark. Then, he used the inhaler again.

This time, he did notice a slight improvement, as some of the tension in his chest and throat seemed to ebb away.

On the third one, he coughed. Jake nearly dropped the inhaler as his body practically doubled over, heaving out a hacking, painful cough that sent pain radiating through his body.

Still, despite how much it hurt, the fit managed to fade away faster than the previous ones. Amy didn’t seem put at ease, and Jake began to become aware that the oddly soothing sound that had been surrounding him was actually Amy’s voice.

“Jake, you’re doing great. Just keep breathing, yeah? You’ll be fine in no time. I’m right here.”

Jake’s mouth curled into a gentle smile, eyes going soft at the sight of Amy, clearly thrown but maintaining control, unsure but still seeming to know what to do.

He loved her so much.

“You take my breath away.” He said with a grin, even as he continued to wheeze like one of those dogs with the smushed faces.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Just take your damn medicine, Jake.”

He obliged.

By number 7, his breathing was close enough to normal that he let it be, placing down the inhaler onto the ground and breathing deeply, eyes closed.

“Well, that happened. I told you, Ames, the ceiling hates me.” He said blithely, before opening his eyes and looking at Amy.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake waved a hand dismissively, “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Her tone switched from concerned to furious. “What the hell, Jake?”

“What?” He asked defensively, tilting one hand up.

“Why didn’t you say anything about having asthma?” Amy shoved a piece of the ceiling away from her, pissed, “I thought you were _dying_! Dying, Jake.”

“I did tell you guys! Asthma camp, the mold… I’ve mentioned this several times!”

“Not that you _still_ had it! Jake, you don’t carry an inhaler! You don’t have it in your medical records, never discussed it with me, nothing!”

Oh, Amy was really upset. Jake didn’t understand - it was an accident, he hadn’t had an attack in ages - but then an epiphany hit him like a truck. Of course. He felt stupid for not realizing. Amy was afraid because she didn’t know. She thought he was dying, yes, and from something unknown. She didn’t know what was wrong, didn’t know how to help him.

One thing cops hated more than anything - especially Amy Santiago - was being confused.

“Ames, I’m sorry.” He dropped his tone. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know. No, seriously,” Jake added defensively, as Amy fixed him with a look, “I didn’t know! I haven’t had one in over twenty years, the doctor told me I outgrew it - I still carried one for years, I never needed it! Look, Ames,” Jake took one of her hands, and she obliged, meeting his earnest gaze with her own angry, hurt one. “I took the precautions for as long as I was supposed to. Longer, actually. This was… highly unlikely and definitely not supposed to happen. But you’re right. I shouldn’t have slacked off on it. I’ll… get another one.”

Amy nodded. “Thank you.”

“Although, even with health insurance, that’s going to be stupid expensive.” Jake added. “Not going to have the budget for any gift, let alone an anniversary one.” He flipped over the inhaler, frowning. “Where’d you even get this?”

“Rosa sto- _borrowed_ it from the evidence locker.”

“Ah. Nice.” Jake raised an eyebrow. “So you mean to say I just used drugs… from the evidence room? We _just_ went over this with Debbie.”

Amy rolled her eyes, then hesitated. “Oh, no, you’re right.” She frowned, eyes going wide again. “Did we just break a law?”

“Mmm,” Jake made a face, “Not if we make a run for it. Start a new life. You and me, together on the open road. We could go to California. Eat tacos. Pretend to be in _Point Break_.”

Amy chuckled. “Sure. But first, we need to get off the ceiling.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Jake stood up, brushing off the powdery chunks of plaster that were sticking to his clothes.

“Here, let me-” Amy reached up, brushing some of it out of his hair.

“Thanks.” Jake said. Amy nodded, and began to turn, but he stopped her. “No, Ames, seriously.” He paused, making eye contact. “Thank you.”

She hesitated a moment. “Of course,” She said finally, “I want to watch Rosa eviscerate you.”

“Oh _fuck_.” Rosa was going to be pissed at him for being stupid - probably less upset than Amy, but she was always more… reactive with her emotions. Not that he would ever tell her that he thought she felt emotions, of course, because then he really would be a dead man.

Jake picked up the inhaler, turning it over in his hands, before handing it to Amy.

“Just in case.” He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

“Shouldn’t you hold onto it?” She asked.

“No,” Jake replied, simply. “I trust you, Ames.”

**Author's Note:**

>  _Total Request:_ It's been mentioned in the show that Jake has asthma but pretty much as nothing more than a quick comment. If you're still taking requests, can you write something where Jake has a bad asthma attack at the precinct and the squad has to help him?
> 
> Thank you for your request! :D
> 
> I did some research on asthma before/during writing this, so it should be fairly(?) accurate. That said, do not try this at home!!! It is dangerous to take medication not prescribed to you.


End file.
